Avengers Version 2
by Travellers all
Summary: The Avengers were Earths Mightiest heroes for thirty years, but now, they have been forced to retire by old age. Now, a new team, made up of the grandchildren of the Avengers faces the possibility that they may be the Earth's last line of defense.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: I own Nothing but my characters. Grandparents of the characters have been listed, except for Bulletstorm, whose parents were.

* * *

Blackhawk= Iron Man+Black Widow+Hawkeye+(Pepper/Iron Maiden?); Antoinette Stark

Godzilla=Lizard+Ant Man+Wasp; Jason Connors

Goblin-Spider=Spiderman+Green Goblin; Peter Osborn

Beowulf=Thor+Hulk; Beowulf Skaarson AKA: Benjamin Blake-Banner

Bulletstorm=Hawkingbird+Speed(Vision/Scarlet Witch); Clint Shepherd

Fury=Nick Fury+Maria Hill; Nicole Hill-Fury

* * *

_"Radio"_

"Speech"

**"Sound Effects"**

* * *

_"Hawk, got a big storm coming your way!" _ The limber figure in a heavily modified flight suit twisted, rolling their hover-board like it was strapped to a cable to avoid a charging jet fighter.

_"Got it Gobby, 'Zilla, how's it coming on your end?"_ The tar black suit of armor hovered calmly twenty feet above Main Street, watching the behemoth bank around a corner, _"I might need your help here."_

_"I think I've got this one. I hate digging asphalt out of my toes!" _ The thirty story tall lizard that stepped out of nowhere dug both feet into the pavement and braced, just in time for the behemoth to impact and crumple like it had hit a solid wall, _"Oh, that hurt."_

_"Beowulf, Location!"_ Hawk shrieked into the headset as a series of micromissiles tore out of both shoulders, streaking towards another behemoth.

_"Airborne. Incoming,"_ the half-Asgardian slammed into another behemoth feet first, buckling it's back like a piece of wet cardboard, _"We may have to speed this up."_

_"What've we got in the sky?" _Hawk hollered and let loose another salvo of missiles that didn't seem to be doing much against the behemoth, _"I need locations, troop movements…"_

_"Chill Hawk. I got this. At least fourteen more behemoths, a few hundred Chits, and I think I can see Laufey. I think he sees me too."_

_"What makes you say that?"_

_"He's here,"_ The eye in the sky whipped out a custom built hand-cannon, sixty-five caliber, electromagnetically fired, it had less kick than an air-rifle, "Ah, Laufey Lokison. Welcome to my little corner of Midgard. Sit, drink, make your ancestors proud."

"Mockery, already? I presume that means you think you've won. Put the gun down Son of Bishop. I will win this encounter, like my father could not."

The gun dropped to the deck, only to be rapidly replaced by a forearm length combat knife with a wicked looking edge, "Laufey, surrender now and I will only hurt you a little before your cousin gets here."

"Ah, yes, Beowulf, Son of Carter Thorson. I remember beating him over the head with his own bottle in the crib. I'm sure he does too."

The fist came out of nowhere, big, green, and wreathed in righteous anger, "You bet I remember cousin. Did you forget that my father was Skaar Sakkaarson?"

Laufey sat up and rubbed his head, "Uh, Ow. Right, your other grandfather is that big green rage-monster. But I am stronger than my forefathers, Odin Allfather included."

The bullet in his kneecap told a slightly different story as the son of Bishop gently pressed another bullet into the back of his pistol, "Tell Loki that we do not give in to his demands, nor to those of his master. The Avengers may be old now, but there's a new generation in town."

_"Beowulf, Bulletstorm, please remove yourselves from that roof. I intend to send Lokison back where he belongs, with his father, on the other side of that portal."_

_ "Aye, Leaving,"_ Beowulf grabbed Bulletstorm and leapt off the building as Zilla tore the roof off and flung it like an unbalanced Frisbee back through the portal before Hawk blew up the portal generator and the entire thing slammed shut.

_"Avengers, to the Triskelion."_ Everyone began the trek back to the assault air-craft that had carried them all there, even as the engines began to spin up. With all five onboard, Beowulf Skaarson reverted to his natural size, six foot five, solid muscle, as befitting an Asgardian, as his skill returned to tanned, rather than green. Bulletstorm AKA: Clint Shepherd dropped his goggles on the ground, revealing his pale blue eyes with their unusual crystallized pupil. The Goblin-Spider, AKA: Peter Osborn slipped his board under the seat and peeled off his half-mask before focusing to retract his fangs, "I hate that part."

Zilla crawled in and flopped down on several jump-seats as he shrank to just fife foot five and his tail retracted almost fully, "I hate those things. So glad they're remote controlled from the other side." His eyes stayed yellow, but his skin turned softer and pale as his hair grew back rapidly, "Remind me to thank my grandpa for that belt."

The last of the team skidded to a stop and coughed before the thick black helmet folded back, revealing bright red bangs that poked out of a head-sock in matching tar-black, "Ok, that was fun, but I think I'm stuck. Took a pretty hard hit to my side." She turned and looked at the shiny blood splotch on the exposed black body-sock, "It warped a couple of the articulation struts and breached the pressure seals."

Clint turned around and popped open his left bracer, revealing a tool-kit, in miniature. He pulled out a screwdriver and slid it through a ring protruding from the side of the kit, where it instantly enlarged to full size, "Thank you Hank Pym." The screwdriver slid into the gap in the armor and he twisted it, pushing the broken strut until it popped and the armor all went slack before dropping open and falling to the deck. Antoinette Stark moved away from the armor pile, still wearing the loose fitting boots over to an empty jump-seat as Clint pulled out a med-kit that had been compressed in the same way as the tool-box. For the duration of the ride back to the Triskelion Mark Eight, he continued holding a bandage to her side to stop the bleeding from getting worse, trusting the aircraft's pilot to make as smooth of a landing as possible. Fortunately, between the Triskelion's pilots and the jet's pilot, they were able to make a flawless landing and a medical team immediately rushed Toni off to the medical bay. Clint picked up the armor scraps and carried them into the massive air-craft carrier, dropping it off beside Toni's room before going into his own.


	2. Clint

Disclaimer: I own Nothing but my characters. Grandparents of the characters have been listed, except for Bulletstorm and Laufey, whose parents were.

* * *

Blackhawk= Iron Man+Black Widow+Hawkeye+(Pepper/Iron Maiden?); Antoinette Stark

Godzilla=Lizard+Ant Man+Wasp; Jason Connors

Goblin-Spider=Spiderman+Green Goblin; Peter Osborn

Beowulf=Thor+Hulk; Beowulf Skaarson AKA: Benjamin Blake-Banner

Bulletstorm=Hawkingbird+Speed(Vision/Scarlet Witch); Clint Shepherd

Fury=Nick Fury+Maria Hill; Nicole Hill-Fury

Laufey=Loki's son; Laufey Lokison

* * *

_"Radio"_

"Speech"

**"Sound Effects"**

* * *

Clint could be called a bit of a weapons nut, but considering who his god-father and namesake was, Clint Barton, the original Hawkeye, before his mother had taken up the title. He had been raised with and around all kinds of weapons, and made use of his Father's passed on super-speed to use them most effectively. He had weapons from exotic regimes, ancient civilizations, and civilizations humanity hadn't even caught up with yet. His favorite had its own wall, surrounded by ammunition of all sorts. The sixty-five caliber pistols he called Cause and Effect were both hand built by Anthony Stark, the original Iron Man, carved to fit his hands perfectly out of the finest Polycarbonate alloys, making it almost completely transparent, and nearly invisible to X-rays. The firing mechanism was a series of high-strength coil-guns linked to rapid-charge capacitors, one shot capacity. Built into each hand-grip was an ARC reactor, designed to keep the capacitors charged, and the integrated clip was designed after the AK-47, mixed with some Pym-Stark compression technology that allowed him to fit thirty rounds in a space the size of his thumb, tucked right beside the reactor. He hung both pistols carefully on their hooks and slung the dual-holster onto a mannequin that took his goggles around its neck and his bracers and gloves pinned to the forearms that were sculpted off of his own. He sat down, still in the rest of his costume, a sleeveless tactical harness and Storm Combat Fatigues tucked into Stark-tech combat boots. The micro-repulsors in the heel and toe made it easier to survive long falls, but they didn't have the power to keep him airborne for more than a few seconds, using AA sized ARC Reactor cells.

He sighed. If he hadn't stayed to argue with Laufey, he probably could have prevented Toni from getting hit. The Blackhawk Mark 2 Armor was tough, but not that tough, and its occupant, less so. Admittedly, she was also directly related to his namesake, and had had almost the same combat training as he had, with a few modifications. He needed to apologize, but that would have to wait until she got back from sick-bay. And even then, she'd probably just brush it off, like she always had. Never a care in the world, even when she was bleeding out.


End file.
